


Fresh Hex

by FrostbitePanda



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostbitePanda/pseuds/FrostbitePanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is standing there limply, the light of the street lamp girding him in orange. She has seen the expression on his face once before. It was one of desolation, of terror, of realizing a great and terrible truth. She wants to leave, but she can't. She can't walk away from that look in his eyes. Not again.</p><p>'Pyllis' Wedding' AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fresh Hex

She grazes the pad of her thumb idely over the edge of her glass, pulling lips over teeth and looking at the floor. The floor was neutral, unassuming. It couldn't possibly give her away.

Her shawl is suddenly itchy and she feels the burn in her face as the image of his eyes, wide and wondering, swim back into her mind despite her best efforts to beat it back. She feels a little outside of herself... as if someone else entirely has been directing her remotely. She has to leave. She doesn't even know why she came tonight. To torture herself? To see what was supposed to be her wedding played out before her? To watch the reason that wedding never happened smile at another woman in his arms? She shakes her head, chastising, as she slugs down the rest of the wine in her glass. She vaguely thinks about getting another one.

She lifts her head as she turns away from the bar and Jim is standing there. She doesn’t really know how long he’s been there, but something in his posture tells her the answer to that question. “Hey. Jim." She says after a shocked pause where her heart had leapt into her throat. It was clipped and small, like how she felt.

“Hey,” He says, warm. He offers her a small, friendly smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. She has the vague notion to run. Or throw up. She can't be sure right now.

They are silent for a beat and her glance darts from his face to the door, unconsciously planning an escape route. “You... I mean... you want to go for a walk?” He suggests, unsure, noting where her gaze had traveled.

She looks at him, blood jolting in her veins. She shouldn't get so excited about having him alone... but that was the thing... with them. It was like walking along a narrow mountain passage. Stay the course, and you could look around safely and maybe imagine what was beyond those cloudS and how beautiful it was. Shift direction even the slightest and you could fall, fall, fall. They were edge dwellers. Never comfortable. Always weary.

She knew she was going to topple over that edge soon.

~~~

They walk through the wet streets, not sure of any destination. She tries to wonder where Karen is, but she doesn’t much care. She watches his shadow, long and slanted and straight as he shuffles through the dark. He looks up in vain, hands stuffed in pockets, as the street lights have effectively blotted out any stars.

They slow, and stop, under a street light. It smells of ozone and the light is harsh and unwelcoming. The asphalt reminds her of a parking lot almost a year ago. She tries to smile at him, even though he's still looking up. She is ashamed of how much the veins in his neck is distracting her.

“What is wrong with you, Pam?” The question hits her hard. A fresh hex. He says it quietly, but the words are loud and jangly in her head, ringing with accusation. She almost wants to laugh. How could she possibly tell him what was wrong with her?

“What do you mean?” _Typical Pam response,_ she thinks to herself bitterly.

He shrugs, hands deep in his pockets, bashful. “What is wrong with you? You aren’t... okay.” He seems to have landed on the last word reluctantly. Keeping it friendly.

She starts walking again, head shaking. She tries to feign some sort of indignation. Like he had no right or reason to ask her such a question. And really, he doesn't. They couldn't even call each other friends. “Nothing. Why would you ask me that?” He walks beside her for a moment, before grabbing her sleeve at the elbow.

"Pam..."

Anger, unsolicited and undeserved, wells up inside her. She looks at him, outraged, fed up, _fucking done._ "What do you want me to say, Jim?" He looks stunned, as if she had gut-punched him. He obviously thought he was going to direct this conversation. This angers her further. "How can you ask me that? _What's wrong with me?_ " She says the last sentence as if she had never heard those words in that order before and couldn't believe what it implied. "How could you not know, Jim?" She says the last words quietly, wrath still bubbling in her voice.

He is standing there limply, the light of the street lamp girding him in orange. She has seen the expression on his face once before. It was one of desolation, of terror, of realizing a great and terrible truth. She wants to leave, but she can't. She can't walk away from that look in his eyes. Not again.

He takes a large, rattling, steadying breath, eyes darting up again, but she can see the glint of tears.

"Jim- I called off my wedding because of you." He shakes his head once, as if shaking off a fly, looking to the ground.

"...And?" It is a slightly mocking question, petulant.

She swallows her derisiveness. "And I didn't call. And I didn't come see you. And I didn't beg you to stay." He lifts his head to glance at her briefly, not wanting her to see his wet face, but the sight warms her despite the cold. She sees a flash of a smile. Something is swelling within her and it's making it awful hard to breathe. "I know... I'm sorry, Jim." She continues, words soft and pliant... to wrap around him. She's conciliatory Pam again. Friend. Always the friend. "You're-you're with someone else and I shouldn't... I shouldn't be saying anything like this to-"

Her words are stopped by his mouth. Frantic, hot, needy. His hands are large and warm on her skull. She doesn't know quite what to do with her own. Her limbs are numb, fingers tingly. Her knees aren't very solid and he smells exactly how he did the last time he did this. He stops, in a jarring sort of way. As if he had forgotten that he needed to breathe. He is laughing, disbelieving and exultant. "We are so... stupid," Shaking his head.

She smiles up at him, true and bright, but tempered by fear. "I... Jim, I know what you went through now. I... I can't believe I put you through that..." He's shaking his head again, but more firmly. He's about to brush it aside, as if it was nothing. As if it wasn't days blurred together into one, gray smear. As if it wasn't a life marked by nothing but acidic jealousy, fruitless, idiotic hope, and terrible, immutable pain. Such a Jim thing to do.

She puts her hand to his lips with a small 'shh'. "No, Jim. I am so sorry."

He grins like a child, relenting. "So..." He says, breathless and giddy. She looks at her toes and she is suddenly aware of so many things. The cold street, the church filled people they work with just beyond. Karen. She feels her stomach drop. She is suddenly grim. "I didn't mean for this to happen tonight. I don't... I mean... Karen."

"When was it going to happen?" He ducks his head to try to catch her gaze.

She nods in agreement. He kisses the top of her head. "I'll call you later, Beesely. Deal?"

"Deal."

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thought as to how 'Pyllis' Wedding' may have ended differently. Un-betaed and written in one sitting very late and very sleep deprived.


End file.
